"You CANNOT be serious! Both of you! How can you think that this is even remotely a good idea? Barnes, you're gonna do something stupid and get yourself killed on the first day! And Rogers," you spun to point and poke into his skinny chest, "you're gonna die just trying to carry your pack before you can even see the damn war!"

Steve recoiled at the pain you were inflicting on him, looking at Bucky with worry. "(Y/N), I think you might be overreacting a bit. I still haven't even found a company that'll let me in yet."

Your eyes widened and you faced flushed bright red in anger as the realization of what Steve had said hit you. Your hands dropped to your sides and clenched into tight fists, you sucked in a harsh deep breath and turned to face Bucky with all the rage you could gather. When his eyes met yours, he lowered his head and began to back away.

"You've already enlisted, haven't you?!"

"Now, (Y/N), let's just try to keep our heads on straight, okay doll?" He put up his hands in front of him as he continued to back away, but stopped short when his back hit the door.

"When?" you whispered, your voice shaking with both anger and the pain that was gripping your vocal cords and strangling the air from your chest.

"107th. I ship out...tomorrow."

~~~

You were allowed to spend a few minutes alone with Bucky once his procedure was done before you were to receive your next injection. Well, alone wasn't quite right; there were several guards, heavily armed, just outside the door in case either of you decided to do anything problematic. The urge to touch him was strong, but he wasn't the Bucky you had known for nearly your entire life; his expression was blank and he had no recollection as he looked at you. You were afraid of what he might do if you made contact, but you also hoped that the contact would pull him back to you.

"Bucky, you know me," you whispered, "do you know who I am?"

"Who the hell is Bucky?"

And there it was; he was gone. Wanting one last attempt at connection, you reached up cautiously and put your hand on his arm, his still human arm, but he recoiled and grabbed you with his metal hand. The feeling of cold fingers wrapped around your arm sent fear through you, but also intense sadness at what was lost. It was a hand that you had held for years; it was the hand that pulled you up from the sidewalk on the first day you met. It was the hand that held yours as you ran through the rain. It was the hand that you slapped away in anger when he tried to explain why he was leaving you for a war that did this to him.

His legs swung over the table as jumped down in front of you, lifting you into the air to come face to face. The door behind you flung open and the guards entered, surrounding you both with guns drawn. Bucky looked around the room at them, but his expression never changed to show any emotion. You fought the tears as you realized that his smile was what you would miss the most. He set you down with a hard drop that landed you on your knees, looking up at him. He spoke with a voice that was cold and distant and frightening.

"No, I don't know you."

~~~

The next day when Bucky left for war, he asked Steve to keep you in the apartment so you "wouldn't do something crazy," whatever the hell that meant. It was a cold and rainy day, one that appropriately matched your mood, making it easier to stay locked away from the world outside. It was easier to lie in bed and drink yourself into a hazy state of awareness at the mess that your life had become that day.

"Hey, you gonna come out at all today?"

"Leave me alone, Steve."

The door to your room slowly creaked open, Steve's head peaking through with a hand over his eyes just to be safe. "You descent?"

"Nope, totally naked," you replied, but the sarcasm was lost on him. Your mouth dropped open when you spied a slip in one of his fingers and saw the white of his eye thru them. "You looked! Steven Rogers, you little shit!" You threw a pillow at the door, but he laughed and pushed his way through anyway.

"Fella's gotta try."

"We've lived together for months now, Steve. If it ain't happened yet, it ain't gonna."

He flopped down on his back next to you on your bed and folded his arms behind his head, tilting just enough to the side to look up at you. "You okay, kid?"

You took a long drink from the bottle of whiskey you had been nursing for the past two hours and handed it to him, grimacing at the burn in your throat as you swallowed. "Never better, old man."

"Hey, I'm only twelve days older than you," he laughed as he followed your lead and took a drink, coughing slightly when he pulled the bottle from his lips. "Oh, dammit! I shouldn't drink! I'm heading out to try to enlist later!" He wiped his mouth quickly and checked to see if he smelled of alcohol on his breath.

"You can't be serious. Steve, if you keep lying on your papers, they're gonna find out. That's illegal, you know?"

"I think I've got a shot this time, (Y/N). I met a guy who said there's some new project I can get in on. Said I'm just the guy they're looking for." He stood up to leave but you grabbed his arm to hold him back.

"Steve...." You paused, closing your eyes and shaking your head slightly as if to shake away the thoughts you were having. You had exhausted yourself with the thoughts of losing Bucky, but now to think of losing Steve too was just too much. You released his arm and took another drink from the near-empty bottle. "Nevermind. It's nothing that you don't already know."

Steve stood at your side and leaned down to give you a small kiss on your cheek, tucking a stray hair behind your ear. "Don't do anything stupid until I get back."

"How can I? You're taking all the stupid with you."

~~~

Nothing really mattered anymore. Bucky was alive, but he was still dead to you for what it was worth. Steve was dead. Your mother wanted nothing to do with you. You were truly alone in the world, and nothing mattered. You were again strapped to the table that had been your resting place for the weeks that had now become merely a blur; weeks that slowly stripped you of the memories that had kept you fighting. Fighting up until today.

Bucky was standing to your left, watching you as they placed the machine over your head and hooked up the monitors to your body. One of the men with sandy blonde hair and soft features leaned in next to him and pointed back at you as he spoke, "Together, you will do great things. You will shape the century." You were curious as to why he spoke with an American accent; the only one you had heard thus far.

The sound of his voice sent waves of nausea through your stomach, but you tried to push them away, not wanting to feel anything anymore. There were no more tears left to cry, and no reason to resist. They were winning, and you no longer cared.

"Buck, please," you whispered, "do you know me?" You had to give it one last try.

He glanced at the man who was speaking to him, waiting for permission to move. With a nod he moved close to you and looked down to study your face. He looked for several minutes, as if he were searching his mind for any recognition; he looked like it pained him to do so.

"I...I don't...know you?" He sounded unsure, and it gave you a glimpse of hope. Bucky looked back at the blonde man, who sighed and grabbed his arm, forcibly leading him out of the room. "Wipe him, and start over."

"Enter into the log that at 1530 we are injecting serum number 42, current heart rate and blood pressure normal, she is awake and calm."

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, preparing again for the pain they were inflicting, though with each wipe of your memory you began to feel less and less. The injections no longer burned in your veins, and you could feel your muscles grow stronger. You had wanted to spend the rest of your life with Bucky, and you actually scoffed aloud at the idea that you now would, together as assassins who knew nothing of each other. Steve's face flashed in your mind, and you wondered how he would react if he knew. Would he kill his two best friends, now that they were a part of Hydra? It frightened you to think that if he were still alive, you would be expected to kill him and you wouldn't know the difference.

"I'm sorry, Steve," you said aloud, feeling the serum begin to course through your veins. "Hail fucking Hydra."

~~~

When Steve called to say he was home and coming to see you, the sound of his voice scared you to your core. He sounded worn and sad, and you knew that he wasn't coming home to give you news that you wanted to hear. You paced the floor of your kitchen, wringing your hands and looking out the window every few minutes in anticipation of his arrival. When you finally heard his key in the lock, you ran to let him in, still shocked at the sight of this new muscular and healthy version of your friend.

He was in his dress uniform, looking very official. Official scared you; official meant he was notifying the next of kin. Bucky didn't have any family, so he was notifying you. Before he had spoken a single word, your sobs were immediate, and when you began to fall to your knees he caught you in his arms and lowered to the ground with you, his own tears wetting your hair.

"No, Steve, this has to be a mistake. This can't happen." You pulled back from his embrace and punched his chest with both fists, refusing to look at him; looking into his eyes would make this real. "You're wrong!"

"(Y/N), I'm so sorry." He pulled you back into him, holding you as you continued to try to fight out of his grasp with no success. "(Y/N), I was there. I saw him." He took in a harsh breath and shuddered as he exhaled, "it was my fault. I...I couldn't catch him."

The words finally began to sink in, and your body betrayed you. You felt numb and limp, allowing Steve to hold you up as you cried. He sat back against the door and pulled you to him, resting your head against his chest with his arms wrapped tight around you. "I'm not gonna stop until all of Hydra is dead or captured," he whispered into your hair. "I owe him that. I owe you that."

"Steve, you can't win this war on your own. I don't care how strong you are now, you just can't. I can't lose you, too."

"I'm not alone, (Y/N), and you'll never lose me." His arms pulled tighter against you, almost so much that you couldn't breathe against him, as if he had forgotten just how strong he was. You didn't care, however, fearing that it could be the last time you saw the man who had become like a brother to you over so many years.

"That's what he said too, Steve."